


A Gentle Dance

by enchanted_doughnut



Category: Love Nikki Dress Up Queen
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchanted_doughnut/pseuds/enchanted_doughnut
Summary: He is the Prime Minister of Lilith Kingdom. Refined, powerful and the pride of their nation. She is his secretary. Timid, unconfident and hopelessly in love with him.Yvette thought she had her feelings under control, but during the night of the Gala, they become too much for her.





	A Gentle Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I will firstly say, there are no spoilers for Chapter 15! This is a cute little fic which has no connections to the… events that have recently transpired. Perhaps at a later date, I might want to sink my teeth into the heart-wrenching angst that's become the game's plot-line, but for now, I'm quite happy in my little corner over here! 
> 
> As for the names, I've decided to go with their new/current ones. I don't think I had been playing for very long when the switch had happened, so I honestly never had much connection to the old ones. (And it was only around Chapter 11 that I started paying attention to the story, haha) I just remember one day being slightly confused, going "Wait, was her name always Bobo? Oh well…" 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

The Lilith Kingdom’s Annual Gala was one of - if not _the -_ most important nights of the year for Yvette. Nobilities across Miraland came to the royal castle for one night of extravagant fun, free from political talk and responsibilities. For one night, Governors, Countesses and Chiefs could mingle together without conflict. Or at least that how it should be, in theory.

It would be wishful thinking indeed, to expect that bringing the most powerful people in Miraland to one location together, and not have thinly veiled posturing and posing. Stylist battles were considered poor manners at these events, so they had to flaunt their superiority to each other somehow.  

And being the host of the Gala, Lilith was under the greatest pressure of all; They certainly couldn't let outsiders come in and outshine them! More work and funds went into the subtle renovations and decorating that went around the castle than what actually went into the event itself. From replacing the flowers in the gardens with incredibly rare ever-blooming roses from the Elven lands in Pigeon, to crafting the new chandelier that hung in the ballroom out of crystals imported from the North, they had to start working on the following years Gala the day after one finished.  

This also meant that in the final months leading up to the night, Yvette's schedule became painfully gruelling. Her nine-hour days and weekends off became fourteen hours every single day with any spare time feeling like a luxury. All so she could complete her usual work while trying to make sure the Gala would be nothing short of perfection - The Prime Minister demanded as such of her.

But for the amount of work Yvette had to do, it paled compared to his. The Prime Minister would be the first in the office in the mornings and the last to leave. If it weren’t for the occasional night that he finished early to walk Yvette home - Yvette didn’t have his stamina for these hours, and had worked herself to exhaustion on more than one evening - She would have suspected he had a hidden cot somewhere in his office that he slept on instead of going home.     

But Yvette tried her hardest. She had been chosen to be the Prime Minister’s Secretary, and failing him wasn’t an option.

 

It was only within the hour of the Gala starting that Yvette was finally able to sit down and get ready herself. All day she had been running around, making sure every team was organised and ready to receive their distinguished guests, and that their eccentric demands were met. Sitting in front of the vanity, her mind was spinning frantically of everything that had happened today.

A noble family from Pigeon arrived in a carriage pulled by winged horses, who only ate a certain type of flower petal. One of the tribes from Wasteland flew in on griffins, who required their own stables separate from the horses. A server’s jacket was too short in the arm, but it had been sent off to get tailored. Was it fixed? Did it come back?

Yvette realised she had frozen sitting at the vanity, her make-up brush hovering by her face as these thoughts chased each other. _Was the jacket fixed?!_  She had to find out. Yvette forcedly shook her head. No, she needed to get ready herself first, then she could run downstairs before the Gala began. She still had time before the Prime Minister welcomed everyone in.

After wrangling her thoughts back in, Yvette quickly finished off her makeup. It didn't take her long since she wasn't one to wear heavy makeup. Her sister had tried bolder looks on her more than once, but Yvette didn't have either the confidence nor facial structure her sister had to pull off such looks so effortlessly. The best Yvette could say she looked with bright lipstick and dramatic eyeshadow was as a child playing with her mother's makeup.

At worst she looked like, well… Yvette wasn't going to say it out loud.

After powering her face, Yvette looked over her reflection in the mirror. God, she looked tired. But even behind the dark circles, she was never the prettiest girl. She had been a cute child growing up, but when she hit adolescence nothing really changed. Her round cheeks didn’t sink into sharp cheekbones, her chest didn’t grow out, her hips didn’t widen. While her friends around her transformed into beautiful women, Yvette was left hoping that she was just a late bloomer.

Except her rose never bloomed.

And while appearances certainly weren't everything, Yvette was never particularity great at anything else, either. She was never the most outgoing, or the smartest or the most stylish. The only thing she was perfect at was being perfectly average. Yvette learnt that in this world of exceptional people, she had to put the work in. She had to work harder than everyone else, for it never came naturally to her as it did to them.

Maybe this was quality the Prime Minister saw in her when he gave her this job?

Yvette had to stop thinking like this. She needed to get dressed and be downstairs. She almost felt too nervous to put the dress on, but she knew she was being silly. Fumbling over the hanger, she slipped the white dress on, not at all surprised that it fit her perfectly. Of course, it did. She patted down the layers of tulle skirt that just brushed her knees, and pinned on the white sash and bow with a cascade of pink, silk roses around her waist. Roses were the Prime Minister's signature, after all.  

Yvette couldn’t believe her eyes when he pulled out the dress for her one day after work. When did he even have the time to design a dress? How many months did it take him, with his fleeting spare time away from the office? Yvette imagined him, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bent over a workspace, pinning and sewing this very dress late into the night, and it made her heart flutter. He made it especially for her.

Yvette found herself getting lost in her reflection, staring at herself in _his_ design. A giddiness was bubbling inside of her and Yvette couldn’t force the corners of her mouth down. Sliding on the pair of matching white heels, Yvette winced slightly. Her feet were sore from all the running around she did today, but there was nothing to be done about it now. She would push through this tonight and wear a comfy pair of flats tomorrow.

 

In the castle’s ballroom, Yvette hurried around double-checking everything for the twentieth time. Candles were lit and the silverware was polished. Lady Margaret was sitting away from Governor Fox, but not at the same table as Sir Richards. The orchestra was all set up and tuning their instruments, while the dance floor was polished and gleaming. The server with the ill-fitting jacket got it back fixed - _Thank God_ \- and was looking like a respectable employee of the Royal family. She could tell something happened in the Kitchens, but they seemed to have sorted it out themselves, and Yvette didn’t have the mental fortitude to find out the details at this point.

“Yvette! We’re about to begin, is everything ready?” The Prime Minister called to her from the entrance, standing next to Prince Royce. They were like night and day, the Prime Minister and the Prince. Wearing all black with shining silver details, the Prime Minister was an imposing figure of elegance and power. Prince Royce, in his royal outfit of white, ivory and gold looked like he had charmed his way straight out of a fairy-tale novel.

“Yes! Everything is ready.” She called back, hurrying over to his side. Taking a deep breath, Yvette smoothed her hair down. Everything was ready.

A small smile played on the Prime Minister’s mouth as he looked down at her. Yvette felt her heart patter in her chest as his eyes traced over her. “You look beautiful, Yvette. I see the dress fits you perfectly.”

A faint blush blossomed on her cheeks at his words. Unable to keep his gaze, Yvette looked down at the floor. “T-Thank you, Sir.”

Then, the castle doors opened and the guests started to enter. As the Prime Minister and Prince Royce welcomed the stunningly beautiful men and women who entered, Yvette found herself slowly falling back to stand beside Prince Royce’s bodyguard, Neva. No-one was sparing Yvette a glance standing with the two powerful men, and why should they? She would just have to wait, ready for any request from the Prime Minister.

 

The Gala continued smoothly, the noble guests all seated in their chairs - everyone seemingly happy with their spots, drinking expensive champagne and feasting on rich delicacies. Prince Royce made a formal welcome, thanking everyone for attending, and expressing his apologies that his sister, Queen Nanari couldn’t attend this evening due to her poor health. This was met with a sympathetic murmur, which the Prince brushed off with a charismatic smile and a toast. Over dinner, there was a slight commotion coming from one of Ruin tables, but as she stood to see what was going on, the Prime Minister caught her eye across the room and shook his head. _It is nothing, you can sit back down._ Yvette couldn’t hear their risen voices properly, but she came to assume their boisterousness was simply a quality of futuristic island.  

Then, the tables were cleared and everyone rose to their feet. It was now time for dancing and mingling. It was only now that Yvette felt it was safe to breathe a sigh of relief. Everything was going perfectly. She even dared take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, the bubbles settling in her stomach cheerfully. As she stood silently behind the Prime Minister who was talking to an elderly couple from Apple, she found herself swaying to the music, staring out at everyone dancing on the floor. They all looked so beautiful.

Everyone here held themselves with a poise and grace that Yvette felt almost alienated by. It wasn’t as simple as their social status that set them apart from the common folk, it was something more innate. She knew that she could wear Star Sea and the people in this room would still outshine her. They all had a natural elegance that someone like Yvette couldn't compete with. Whereas she wore pretty dresses to conceal her faults, the clothes they wore complimented them, and elevated them to a level forever unreachable to Yvette.     

“Would you like to dance?”

Yvette jolted, blinking at the Prime Minister who was smiling at her. The elderly couple was gone and Yvette had been too lost in her daydream to notice. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Would you like to dance, Yvette? You’re staring at the dance floor quite longingly.”

An image flashed through in her mind, of her and the Prime Minister dancing together. In the centre of the room, for everyone to see. Her hand in his, his other hand on her back - Yvette blushed furiously. “I can’t dance, Prime Minister!”

The smile on his face widened slightly. “It’s not hard, I can lead you. Here,” He held out his hand to her.

Yvette felt like she had been split in two; Her immediate reaction was _‘No!’,_ she couldn’t possibly do such a thing! Dancing with him, in front of the most powerful, respected people in Miraland? Yvette would faint before she even made it onto the floor. But another, quieter part of her begged. Take his hand, dance with him, be close to him. For once in your life, _do it._  

“I… I can’t!” Yvette clutched the champagne glass tightly. Her heart was beating rapidly, her ears burning. “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t.”  

While his expression barely changed, Yvette knew he was disappointed with her. The corners of his mouth had dropped and his eyebrows lowered slightly. His hand lowered back to his side. “Very well,”

_You are such a coward._ Yvette chastised herself. _You can’t even dance with him. How can you ever expect him to take you seriously?_

As the Prime Minister turned to talk to more people, Yvette finished off her champagne. She was rarely a big drinker, one glass being more than she would normally consume, but at that moment she found herself craving more. Swapping her empty glass for a new one, Yvette sipped on the bubbly nectar, wondering if it would give her the infamous ‘liquid courage’. But the thought of her saying or doing anything shocking in front of the Prime Minister mortified her.

She should put the glass down.

“Nidhogg! Come over here!” Prince Royce’s rose above the heads and Yvette saw the handsome Prince waving at them not far away. Yvette followed the Prime Minister through the crowd, and found with a surprise, Prince Royce standing with, none other than Nikki and her friend Bobo.  

“Yvette! It’s good to see you again!” Nikki greeted her cheerfully. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks glowing radiantly, like a fairy had swooped down and kissed her skin. With her shimmering gown and curls cascading down her back, she looked like a Princess.

“Nikki! Bobo! It’s nice to see you too,” Yvette responded, smiling.

The pink-haired girl turned to the Prime Minister. “It’s a pleasure to see you again too, Prime Minister Nidhogg.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Nikki.” The Prime Minister greeted her politely. “How are your studies going in Cloud Empire?”

As Nikki gushed about the beautiful, oriental designs of Cloud, Yvette found her mind wandering again. Yvette knew Nikki was new to Miraland, and in such a short amount of time, she had already become a powerful stylist. And despite this, she was still so kind and friendly. Power corrupts - there was no clearer example than many in this very room - and yet it hadn't sunken its claws into Nikki, which made Yvette deeply shameful for her feelings towards her.

On nights she couldn't sleep, a darkness reared up inside of Yvette. It forced to re-live her defeat to Nikki, and then the Prime Minister's disappointment after. In those moments, she felt an unbecoming animosity towards the pink-haired girl.

Yvette took another sip of the champagne. She _really_ needed to put the glass down.

“Oh, I love this song! Neva, let’s go dance!” Prince Royce interrupted Yvette’s thoughts. He grabbed Neva’s hand and tugged the exasperated looking girl out onto the dance floor. “Nidhogg, you should dance with Nikki,” Prince Royce called over his shoulder, winking at the Prime Minister. “A beautiful lady like her shouldn’t be at a party and not dance!”

Nikki’s face seemed to light up with excitement, a rosy blush blooming on her cheeks. As the Prime Minister turned to her, she didn’t shy away or look embarrassed.

“Would you care to dance, Nikki?” The Prime Minister held out his hand to her.

Beaming happily, Nikki took it. “I would love to, thank you Prime Minister.”

Yvette watched their backs as the Prime Minister led Nikki out into the middle of the dance floor, amongst the other beautiful couples. Their dance started slow, picking up tempo as they became familiar with each other's skills, and soon Nikki's champagne-pink dress was flaring out behind her as they swept and spun across the ballroom together. She looked so elegant and composed in his arms. They looked perfect together, and it made Yvette's heart ache.  

“The Prime Minister is so handsome,” Bobo sighed next to her. “You’re so lucky to work with him.”

Yes. Yvette _was_ lucky to be so close to him. She saw him nearly every day, had gotten to know him better him than nearly anyone else, so why couldn't she be satisfied?

Around her, people had started to notice Nikki and the Prime Minister, their excited whispers reaching Yvette’s ears. Gossip was already spreading like wildfire across the ballroom; They all knew each other, so when someone new appeared - capturing the Prime Minister’s attention, no less - it became their singular focus. _“Who is she?” “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.” “She’s so beautiful,”_

The Prime Minister and Nikki were staring into each other’s eyes, faint smiles on their faces.  

Yvette pressed her hand to her chest. She couldn't watch it any longer. Pushing through the crowd, Yvette stuttered out blind apologies as she bumped into people, fleeing for the castle's doors. Stumbling over her own feet, Yvette almost ran down the stone stairs from the castle and into the chilly garden below. Clutching her shoulders against the brisk wind, Yvette fled to the manicured maze to the side of the castle, feeling an overwhelming desire to get lost.

She wanted to run away and escape from this moment.

Weaving through a familiar path inside the twilight maze, it didn’t take Yvette long to find the first bench inside. While there was an occasional oil lamp standing in the maze, most of the light came from the moon and stars above. Luckily, the skies were clear tonight and the moon full, so the harsh shadows were cast away by an ethereal glow.

Letting out a loud sigh, Yvette sank onto the bench, her skin prickling with goosebumps. The gardens were surprisingly noisy. She could hear giggling and murmurs from deeper inside the maze, and wondered why guests would have left the castle to venture around outside on a cold night.

Yvette leaned back, the back of her head touching the leafy maze wall as she stared up at the twinkling stars. She was such a fool. Why did she allow herself to fall for him?

The Prime Minister was so powerful and graceful. Yes, he was strict and stern - Yvette knew that better than anyone - but it was because he sought perfection in everything he did, and expected the same from those around him. He needed a partner who could match his grace and elegance. Someone who could dance in a crowded ballroom in his arms, and turn the heads of everyone in there. He needed an equal, who was just as strong as he.

Someone not like Yvette.

She drew in a shaky breath, feeling her throat constrict as she fought back tears. She could already feel them building in the corner of her eyes and sticking to her eyelashes, making them heavy. She was going to cry. Carefully dabbing underneath her eyes, Yvette sniffed as she smeared mascara onto her fingers.

And now she was making a mess of herself.

More tears started rolling down her cheeks. God, she was such a pathetic fool.

With nothing to wipe her hands on, but not wanting to leave her hidden spot in the maze, Yvette remained hunched over the bench, feeling miserable. It felt like someone had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart, and was now refusing to let go. Several minutes passed in silence, as Yvette listened to the stifled giggles and footsteps in the maze. She could hear the faint music from the orchestra drifting out from inside the castle, caressing the grounds with its soft notes.

“Yvette?”

Her head shot up. The Prime Minister was standing in front of her, concern written across his face.

“Yvette, are you okay? What happened?” She felt stunned as she knelt down in front of her and dabbed her cheeks softly with a handkerchief.

“N-nothing’s wrong,” Yvette said quietly. “How did you find me out here?”

He didn’t answer straight away, instead cradling her hands in his as he wiped the mascara from her fingers. She hoped he couldn’t feel her hands shaking. “I know you, Yvette. You’ve always loved being inside the maze. You have your lunch break in here every day, given the weather is permitting.”

Yvette felt her lips part in surprise. How did he know that? She had never told him where she went for her lunch breaks. Nor had she ever shared a break with him, save for the busier days when they were pouring over documents and forced to eat at his desk, or when they had work away from the office and he treated her to a meal in a nice restaurant.  

Tucking his handkerchief away in his jacket pocket, the Prime Minister looked up at Yvette, frowning. “Tell what happened. Why were you crying?”

Yvette stared down at her hands, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. She didn’t deserve his kindness. Here she was, upset because she was foolishly _in love_ with him, and he was concerned for her! He had come out into the chilly night, trying to make her feel better when he should be inside the castle, standing beside the other gorgeous people. "It's nothing, sir." She said. "I… I'm just being silly."

A gentle smile touched his lips. He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers tracing across her skin. “Well, I know that,” He said, fondly. “Do you want to go back inside?”

Yvette paused for a moment, thinking. “No,” She said. “But you can go back in though, sir. I… I don’t want to keep you out here.”

“I don’t mind being out here with you,” He said, moving to sit on the bench beside her. He leaned back, looking up at the night sky above, the stars reflected in his dark eyes, his skin almost glowing in the moonlight. He shifted slightly, and his jacket arm brushed against Yvette’s bare skin, and she could feel the heat radiating from him.  

“But, you should go back in and dance,” Yvette protested weakly. “You and Nikki…”

Though she was staring fixedly on her hands in her lap, out of the corner of her eye she saw his head turn to look at her. “Is that what this is about?” He said. Yvette jumped as the Prime Minister reached out to her face, gently turning her to look at him. She felt her face flush as he stared into her eyes, intensely. “I would much rather be here with you, than dancing with Nikki.”

Yvette’s heart started racing as he held her gaze, trapping it within his. She always found it scary (and thrillingly intimate) when his eyes looked into hers. It was like he could straight through her, looking upon the most vulnerable parts of herself she kept hidden. _Say it,_ the voice inside her shouted. _Tell him._

”I… would rather be with you, too.” The Prime Minister’s smile widened and Yvette felt her face grow even more flushed. She tried to turn away, but his hand cupping her cheek kept her facing him. “I… I want…”

“What do you want, Yvette?”

He had leaned into closer to her, his face near hers. Yvette could feel his soft breath upon her face, her skin underneath his palm was tingling. It was like they were about to share a whispered secret, that no-one else knew. If someone saw them in this moment, would they think they were about to…? Yvette could feel herself trembling. “I want to dance with you,” She whispered. “Out here, w-with no-one watching.”

For the briefest moment, the Prime Minister looked surprised before his face smoothed out. "I believe we can arrange that," He said rising to his feet. He stepped in front of Yvette, and for the second time that night, he held out his hand to her. "Shall we?"

With trembling fingers, Yvette reached out and took it. As she stood, her hand remained firmly locked in his larger one, and he guided her in front of him. Yvette’s other hand came to rest on his shoulder, his on her back, and they started swaying to the soft orchestral music from the castle.

They were so close, could he hear Yvette’s heart racing? Could he feel the heat radiating from her face, like she could feel his warmth under her palms? Could he feel her pulse in her fingers, or smell her perfume over his cologne? Could he hear her shuddering breathes over their muffled steps on the dewy grass?  

Yvette strained her neck to look up at him. Catching her eyes, he smiled at her and pulled her closer into an embrace. Dipping her head back down, Yvette closed her eyes, resting her cheek on his chest. They were still swaying gently, but Yvette could hardly call it a dance now. She could hear the steady beating of his heart against her ear.

This was a dream. It was a wonderful dream she wished never to wake up from.

A loud shrieking giggle pierced the silence inside the moonlit maze.  

“Why are people out here?” Yvette murmured, cracking one eye open slightly. “It’s dark, you can’t see anything properly.”

The Prime Minister chuckled lightly. “I imagine that’s exactly why they’re here. Clandestine relations in the castle has been a goal for many for generations. I would say with a fair amount of confidence that the patios are playing host to such encounters right now, too.”

It took Yvette several moments to realise what the Prime Minister was implying. “Oh my God!” She jerked back, her face flushing brilliantly. “T-they are - I can’t - why would…?”

The Prime Minister started laughing openly now at Yvette horrified face. “Can you really not imagine?”

Yvette shook her head furiously. “O-of course, not!”

“That’s a pity.”  

Silence fell between them and the Prime Minister continued to lead her in their swaying embrace. Yvette hesitantly rested her head back on his chest, her mind repeating his words over and over. _That's a pity._ He didn’t… Surely he didn’t mean it like that…

“P-Prime Minister?” She barely heard her own voice, it sounded so shy and timid.

“Yes, Yvette?”

Her lips silently worked over the words that were refusing to come out. She could do this. _She could do this._ “W…What did you mean by that?” She finally said, the words heavy on her tongue. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

The Prime Minister pulled back away from Yvette, so he could look down at her properly. A faint smile was teasing his mouth. “By what?”

This was a terrible idea, why did she say anything? Yvette shook her head, unable to look at him. She should be happy right now with what she has, not trying to push for more. She was only setting herself up for disappointment. "N-nothing. It's nothing."

“By saying ‘that’s a pity’ to your scandalised reaction? Why do you think I said that?” They had stopped moving completely now, as he let go of Yvette’s hand, cupping her face to look up at him. His hand felt almost cool next to her burning skin. “Can’t you think of any reason?” His voice dropped down to a soft murmur.

“N-no…” Yvette whispered. His face was coming closer to hers. He wasn’t… Surely… He couldn’t be…

His face was so close their noses brushed against one another. “Nothing what so ever?” His voice came out like a silky purr now. Yvette felt herself shake in his embrace. _Oh my God, he is really…?_ Yvette felt her eyelids droop. Her heart was beating painfully now, thudding against her ribcage like it was trying to escape. Her fingers tightened into his jacket. It was happening. This was really happening…

Then, the Prime Minister pulled back and stepped away from her. Stunned, Yvette found herself standing there, suddenly feeling cold and strangely empty.

"I suppose I should head back inside." The Prime Minister sighed, shrugging. "There's still a few people left I need to talk with before the harder drinks really start flowing and they get too rowdy."

No.

Yvette bit down on her quivering lip, clenching her eyes shut. Emotions rushed up inside her like a sudden wave. What an idiot she was. Daring herself to think that he would even consider her that way. Her life wasn’t a fairytale; she wasn’t special enough for that. She was his secretary, and that was as magical as her life would ever be.

Swallowing, Yvette scraped together the last of her self-respect and forced her eyes open. The Prime Minister was smirking at her, looking incredibly amused.

“You are far too easy to tease.”

Yvette’s breathe escaped her as he leaned down and kissed her. She felt frozen, as time stopped around her. The world fell away, and it was suddenly just them, alone in the dark maze, with only the moon and stars twinkling above. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let the feeling of his soft lips pressed against hers to wash over her, letting it settle in every crevice of her mind and body.

Then, he slowly pulled back, and Yvette caught herself from swaying forward, not wanting it to end.

The Prime Minister was frowning at her, his face surprisingly serious. “Was that okay?”

“W-what?”

“Was I right to do that?”

Yvette nodded, butterflies dancing in her stomach. “Yes,”

The Prime Minister smiled, looking pleased. “May I do it again?”

Yvette couldn’t stop herself from grinning foolishly. Her heart felt like it swollen up, her fingers were tingling and she felt _happy _.__ She was so happy. Rising up onto her toes, Yvette met him halfway, sinking into his arms as they wrapped around her. Underneath her palms, she could feel his heart beating quickly. Lifetimes past in the span of moments, until they finally pulled apart and Yvette rested her head on his chest, sighing as his arms tightened around her shoulders.

“This doesn’t change anything in the office. During work hours our relationship will be strictly professional.” The Prime Minister said, his chin resting on the top of her head.

“.. a-and what about out of work hours?” Yvette asked, her voice unrecognisably coy. Everything was so unbelievable right now, she felt like laughing.   

She felt the Prime Minister’s chest rumble as he chuckled softly. “What would _you_ like to do out of work hours?”

“This was nice,” Yvette felt her cheeks flush.

“Just this? Nothing else?”

The teasing tone had entered his voice again, and Yvette groaned, trying to bury her head further into his chest. “No, please don’t make me say it.” She moaned.

“Say what?” He started laughing again as Yvette moaned pitifully.

 Yvette could have stayed there forever, in his warm arms. She knew that soon they would have to go back inside to the castle of distinguished nobility, but she didn’t feel quite so intimidated by the thought any more. In this moonlit maze, her world had shifted slightly. The endless chasm separating them wasn’t as large any more. She was closer than she thought.

 

 


End file.
